


Drunken Meetings

by ForgottenChesire



Series: 2017 Birthday Presents [4]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Drunk Bones, Fluff, Gen, Pre-Slash, Slight Canon Divergence, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 09:56:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12274050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForgottenChesire/pseuds/ForgottenChesire
Summary: Spock and Leonard have a different meeting than the one in the movie. Spock isn't a man who is good at showing emotions on the outside. This is shown clearly when a very drunk and emotional man breaks into his home.





	Drunken Meetings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LilyAnson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyAnson/gifts).



Spock freezes slightly when he notices that the door to his academy instructor apartment is cracked open. He knows for a fact that he closed and locked it before leaving for his first class. Slowly he inches into his home. The lights are still off and nothing in his direct line of view seems to be out of place.

 

“Lights fifty percent,” he whispers. While the change in lighting may alert the intruder to his presence he doesn’t want his voice to give away his location. With the lights on Spock can see a trail of clothing leading to his couch. The illogicalness of the man laying mostly naked on his couch has him pausing. None of his fellow instructors would behave in such a way and he doesn’t have any friends who would shed their clothes like a snake does its skin. The man with messy brown hair that can’t meet Starfleet regulations groans not lifting his head.

 

“Jim for the love of god, turn off the lights.”

 

The words are slurred and accompanied by a whine. Clearly, this man has made a mistake and it must be corrected.

 

“I am not Jim,” he says calmly.

 

“Now is not a good time to fuck with me, kid.”

 

Spock feels his eyebrow twitch as he walks closer to his couch. He allows himself a curious sweep of the body sprawled out on his couch.  The body is toned nicely and he has scars reminiscent of a crash. The skin is lightly tanned and looks soft. When his eyes start to drift down to lower half of the man’s body he cuts off any more thoughts.

 

“I have no desire to copulate with you,” he says. At least not with the man in this state. If the man was soberer, the smell of alcohol is thick now that Spock is closer, and they knew each other better Spock would not be opposed at all. The man lifts his head, a glare narrowing bloodshot hazel eyes. They are very nice eyes even with the anger clear in them.

 

“I am afraid you are in the wrong place.”

 

The man blinks, glare sliding off his face and then to Spock’s distress the man begins to cry. Vulcans, even half Vulcans, cannot lie. They can stretch the truth, play around with meanings, omit things and give half-truths but they cannot lie not even to themselves. And the truth is that Spock is not good at dealing with crying people, much to the dismay of Nyota and his mother. He stands there awkwardly until sitting stiffly next to the man. Nyota often rubs the back of those who are crying but Spock has no desire to feel what this man is feeling so he tries to give support by just sitting there.

 

“Great, just fuckin great! A wonderful way to end a shitty day. First I lose a patient and now I break into a stranger’s home,” the man cries into his hands. He is leaning just so slightly toward Spock allowing the Vulcan to catch the scent of the man. Under the strong stench of alcohol is the subtle scent of peaches, mint, and sugar. Then the man surges up, body swaying dangerously. Spock barely catches the man and the strong feelings the man is experiencing break through his walls. Depression, guilt and so many dark thoughts exacerbated by the drink has consumed. The man jerks back with curses and a mumbled complaint about ‘hobgoblin hoodoo’ but there is no malice coming through what little contact they have so Spock lets it roll off his back.

 

“Please sit before you hurt yourself. It is illogical to try to move in your state.”

 

“Fuck you,” the man says without heat as he slumps back down. There are still tears falling down his face. Logic states he should find the man’s communicator and find the Jim he had thought Spock was. Logic states that he should call the cops. Logic tends to be the way he makes his decisions but instead, he goes and finds a blanket and pillow for his impromptu guest.

 

“We will have a very serious discussion when you wake up,” he says, “breaking into people’s homes is not a healthy coping mechanism.”

 

“What? You’re… you’re letting me stay?”

 

“Affirmative.”

 

He hopes this doesn’t come back and as Captain Pike likes to say, bit him in the ass. He’s walking to his room when whispered words reach his ears.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Muttered curses wake him up far earlier than even he is used to. Vulcans may require less sleep than humans but not even they like being woken up… four hours after they’ve laid down. The scene that greets him when he walks into his front room stops him in his tracks. His guest is attempting to balance on one leg. He has one boot on and the other is in his hands as he hops around trying to get it on his foot, he’s talking into his communicator.

 

“Damn it, man! His chart clearly says that he’s al- Don’t you cut me off you pompous med school dropout! You clearly only got into Starfleet because of your last name or you would know to read a patient’s fucking chart!”

 

So his guest really is a doctor. Spock had dismissed the line about losing a patient last night as drunken rambling. A doctor with a foul mouth.

 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Don’t touch him again or I will sue you for malpractice!”

 

The man hangs up only to pause when he spots Spock.

 

“Did I wake you?”

 

Spock nods his head.

 

“Sorry. I was trying not to. I know you wanted to ream me for breaking in, completely understandable, but I have to go.”

 

There is an urgency to his tone that has Spock believing him.

 

“I left my name and number on a note just in case you want to have me arrested or pay for anything I might have broken.”

 

And with that, the man is gone and Spock is left standing confused and half asleep in the front room of his home. Later he will pick up the note and find out his late-night companion was one Leonard McCoy. Not that he will tell anyone this, as no one he knows would really believe him.


End file.
